


My dear angel, ...

by Natsue_Yotsuki



Series: Bidding Goodbye [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Hurt, M/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21693910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natsue_Yotsuki/pseuds/Natsue_Yotsuki
Summary: Aziraphale receives a package. In it? Crowley's death note.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Bidding Goodbye [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667980
Comments: 32
Kudos: 114





	My dear angel, ...

**Author's Note:**

> A little ficlet I wrote to make myself sad...  
> Thanks to RangerHorseTug who beta'd and provided some ideas.  
> Maybe I'll write someday a companion piece with Crowleys POV, but that's a big maybe.  
> But for now, this little thing is a one-shot.

Aziraphale busied himself rearranging his recently started collection of children books (gifts from the Antichrist) when he heard a heavy thud from somewhere behind him. He turned around carefully and listened into the quietness of his shop. There were no footfalls to be heard, no hushed voices or rustle of clothing. The angel closed his eyes and let his non-human senses expand, taking in the bookshop. Aziraphale was at a loss when he found nothing out of the ordinary.

He tiptoed around the shelves with bated breath. Nothing. He peeked through the shutters at the door and windows. But the street lay dark and stubbornly abandoned before him.

So, what had startled him?

Should he call Crowley? Had their breathing room expired?

He made his way to the telephone, still wondering if he was overreacting. Crowley would laugh at him if he panicked because of a cat or something alike in his shop. On the other hand, Crowley would be outraged if something was truly wrong and his angel didn't call him. Either way, Crowley would be loud - but that's the way he was.

Making his decision, Aziraphale took the receiver and started to dial without looking. His gaze wandered around the shop. He stopped. _That_ was new. Hanging up before he finished dialling, Aziraphale walked towards his cluttered desk.

A chest had materialised itself and sat unimpressed on a priceless, old and crumbling parchment. Aziraphale huffed and furrowed his brows. Whoever sent it, had obviously no respect for the written word.

He approached the chest at arm's length and took it in. It was slightly too big to be held comfortably on the lap while rummaging through; its dark and weathered wood suggested old age, the polished golden fittings, however, spoke of a caring owner.

Aziraphale relaxed visibly and smiled, as the detailed carvings on the lid gave the sender away. An angry snake coiled tightly around an apple with bared fangs, ready to strike.

"What is this, my dear?" he asked into the empty room. He took a step closer and leaned over the chest. He let his senses sweep over it once more, confirming it was from Crowley. The angel couldn't resist stroking the head of the snake, before touching the lock. A gentle shudder crept softly over his hand and Aziraphale recognized the protection spell and waited confidently. The chest clicked and the lid sprung open a bit.

He held his breath in anticipation and tilted the lid completely open. He found a tan envelope, his Enochian name written on the front in Crowley's script. "How unusual old-fashioned of you..." he mumbled and took it out.

He glanced inside the chest and pursed his lips. Some keys, a few seemingly official papers - modern and old -, and various trinkets and jewellery of different value. There was also a wooden box, a smaller one, heavily warded and secured with a chain. But on top lay one of Crowley's feathers. It was as long as Aziraphale's forearm and shone perfectly. He took it out and touched it with careful fingers. Little sparks fell from the touch and landed warm on his hands, melting like snowflakes and dissipated into his skin. Obviously, Crowley had put a spell on it.

Aziraphale was tempted to go through the contents of the chest, but if Crowley went to the trouble of writing him a letter, he would honour that first. He opened the envelope, took out the papers and smoothed them out.

Crowley's chaotic hand scrawled in black ink over the pages. Some parts were smudged by his hands, some crossed out harshly. It looked as if written in a hurry and Aziraphale began to read.

> _ My dear Angel _ _,_
> 
> _I bet you're surprised to get a letter from me, eh?_

Aziraphale hummed in agreement and nodded. He sat down and tipped at his mug to reheat the cocoa.

> _But as I know your affinity for the written word, I considered it fitting..._
> 
> _I assume you've taken a look into the chest already, didn't you?_
> 
> _Have you touched the feather? Please do._ ~~ _I beg you t_~~ _Please_ _resume reading only after touching it._

Aziraphale looked again at the feather. What kind of spell had Crowley cast over it? And thereby, over Aziraphale? He traced a finger delicately over it once more, causing sparks to rain out again. The next passage was rewritten and crossed out various times, making the words indecipherable. Aziraphale took a sip from his cup and went on reading.

> _I am sorry, but there is no easy way to say this..._

At this point, Crowley had paused. Aziraphale could tell by the smudged puddle of ink his pen had oozed on the paper. And when he'd restarted, his hand had been shaking, making his scribble even more complicated to read.

> ~~_Hell got_~~ ~~_By the time you are reading this_~~
> 
> _I am sorry angel._
> 
> ~~_They_ ~~ _I am dying, my angel. And there is nothing that can be done. Some demons_ ~~_overwhelmed_ ~~ _overwhelmed me in my flat and injected me with Holy Water._

Aziraphale had to read it again. And again. And again. The paper crinkled in his hands. This couldn't be true. "No!" he whispered. He threw the papers on the chest and snapped his fingers.

But nothing happened.

"You bloody stupid Serpent," he wailed, when he realised, that the spell from the feather kept him from leaving. He fell to his knees and shouted. "How dare you to!" With shaking fingers he grasped the letter.

> _I've prepared this chest_ ~~_before_ ~~ _a long time ago. It's my legacy, so to speak. I linked it_ ~~_with my_ ~~ _to me. The moment I vanish, it will send itself to you. So there's no point in endangering yourself by coming to my flat. It's too late._

Aziraphales heart ached with the mental image of Crowley sitting at his pompous desk, face contorted in pain, struggling to write the words down.

> _In the chest, you will find some things I've gathered over time. Some of them you will recognise, I'm sure._
> 
> _ It's all yours now _ _._
> 
> _The keys are for the Bentley and some safe houses, too._
> 
> _It's a map in there, showing you where they are. I've warded them._ ~~_For you_ ~~ _It should give Heaven and Hell a hard time finding you._
> 
> _In the small box is a vial of hellfire. I_ ~~_beg you not to use it to_ ~~ _Please_ _ don't use _ _it!_

His writing became unsteady. Letters turned indistinct from each other and the once straight lines became askew, words almost touching each other.

> _You once asked me, whether I remembered heaven. I didn't_ ~~_not until_ ~~ _But I do now. Seems like the Holy Water raging through me triggered something._
> 
> _I cannot grasp a name. But I remember_ _ you _ _... It's always you._
> 
> _You never said we knew each other. I do remember know. And I am happy, you know?_

Another ink puddle indicated a pause to think and Aziraphale swallowed hard. "My Raphael..." he murmured.

> _I really am. When I fell,_ ~~_all I could think about was you_ ~~ _I feared for you to be lonely. But we found each other again and became closer than before._

Aziraphales throat constricted. God had explained that She'd closed the newly formed demons off of Heaven and sealed their memories away as a punishment. He always considered it as punishment for all - not only the Fallen.

> _I am grateful for your love. And now I fear for you again. Stay safe!_
> 
> ~~_Raphael_~~ ~~_I remember, they called me Raphael_~~ ~~_I_~~

Something dark that wasn't ink had splattered over the pages. Aziraphale could only assume that Crowley had begun to cough up black blood. The angel felt cold fingers wrap around his heart and squeeze.

> _They set_ ~~_fire_ ~~ _the building on_ ~~_He_ ~~ _fire. It's hellfire. Don't come._

Crowley's writing was now even more frantic than before. Aziraphale guessed, that pain and stress, as well as forgotten memories rushing into his head, had taken their toll. He became increasingly incoherent.

> _Please,_ ~~ _angel_~~ ~~_Azir_~~ _my Love, be safe!_
> 
> _I was Raphael. And I loved you._ ~~_We were_ ~~
> 
> _Don't come. They_ ~~ _must_~~ _MUST_ _not get to you! Promise me this. It's my_ ~~ _wish_~~ _last wish_ _. Stay safe! Let me save you one more time._
> 
> ~~_I am afraid_ ~~

Tears had dropped on the paper and blurred the letters.

> ~~_It hurts so much, angel_ ~~
> 
> ~~_Wherever_ ~~ _Whatever the Almighty has in store for us, wherever I go, I will wait for you._ _ Promise _ _me, you won't follow before your time._
> 
> _I loved you before time was a thing, I love you now and I will love you forever._
> 
> _Crowley_
> 
> ~~_Raphael_ ~~
> 
> _Raphael_

The letter slipped from Aziraphale's hand. In the distance, he heard the wailing of fire engines. The spell that had fallen from the feather ceased to be effective and in the blink of an eye, Aziraphale vanished from his bookshop.

* * *

The fire from Crowley's flat had spread to the whole building. Firefighters shouted over the cacophony of sirens, the raging fire and the screaming of people. It was a mess. Aziraphale could do nothing but stare up at the top floor where Crowley lived. Had lived.

The blast of the fire - Hellfire, he corrected himself - had blown out the windows and shards rained on the street.

It was a raging inferno for hours. And Aziraphale just stood there, while humans washed around him, taking no notice of the angel among them. He felt empty and powerless.

After hours of fighting the stubborn blaze, the fire was doused and Aziraphale willed himself into Crowley's flat. He had no reason to assume the demon might be still alive but he had to see it for himself.

The walls were blackened by the fire and Aziraphale made sure not to touch the smouldering pockets of embers that once were Crowley's lush plants. He stopped at the door to the office. The angel pushed it gently open but did not enter. He looked into the room and shook his head sadly.

Then he opened his celestial eyes and looked again.

"Goodbye, my dearest," Aziraphale breathed and turned around, leaving the remains of his beloved behind.

Once outside the building, he started walking. He didn't have a particular destination in mind. He only wanted to get away.

Away from what he'd seen in the office.

Away from the stench of burnt flesh.

Away from the memory of an unrecognisable corporation and a charred gigantic Serpent.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
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